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END OF THE LINE

CHAPTER 2

From the elevator he could hear Ziva and McGee talking about something, but when he arrived at the bull pen they shut up and exchanged a look before acknowledging his presence.

"Good morning, Gibbs."

"Morning, Boss."

Their greeting was said almost in unison, but he wasn't fooled for a second. The way they got quickly back to work and avoided looking at Tony's empty desk, spoke volumes.

Gibbs stole a glance at the corner desk as he stowed away his gun and badge, and wondered what the story was. When he'd spoken to Tony last night he'd sounded okay, if a little pissed at being disturbed while he was having dinner. It wasn't like DiNozzo to be this late, but after the fall he'd taken yesterday the guy was bound to be sore. He decided to cut him some slack, but only a little.

Out the corner of his eye he saw McGee making faces at Ziva. He pretended not to notice, but could practically hear the whirring as their brains tried to figure out why he hadn't said anything. Part of him respected them for covering for their team mate, but if Tony didn't call or make an appearance soon… On cue his cell rang, but it wasn't the call he was hoping for.

"Gear up…we have a missing marine."

Ziva was on her feet before he'd finished speaking. "How long?"

"Twelve hours."

"Err…excuse me, Boss, but don't we usually wait until someone's been missing twenty-four hours first?" Tim offered, looking at him puzzled.

"Yup…but his wife's been calling since her contractions started last night. Somehow I think he would have appeared by now – don't you?" There was no more time for guessing games. Gibbs finally acknowledged the elephant in the room addressing the question to the both of them. "Has either of you heard from DiNozzo?"

Ziva glanced at Tim and from the change in her expression he knew they hadn't been covering. "When he failed to come in I called his cell. It went straight to voice mail. After his accident yesterday I wondered if he had called in sick to you."

McGee came over to join them. "I passed his place this morning on the way to pick up my dry-cleaning. I didn't see his car, but I know there's an issue with parking. Last week Tony was complaining if he got home late the only space he could get was nearly half a mile away."

Gibbs cursed himself for not following his instincts. He pulled out his keys, yanked one from the holder and threw it to McGee. "Get round to Tony's place. Take Ducky with you. He was fine when I called last night but maybe something's wrong. Ziva…you're with me."

ooooOoooo

The maternity unit looked a lot different since Shannon had given birth, but the flash of nostalgia brought back bitter sweet memories as he walked into the ward.

Like any other medical facility patient care was paramount. Unlike anywhere else, there was an air of anticipation, even joy at the thought of new life being brought into the world. He remembered arriving just in time for his daughter to be placed into his arms. After that, life was never the same.

Shannon had looked exhausted. To him she was beautiful, but at that moment she possessed a fragility that stirred every protective instinct. He'd wanted to lift her into his arms and carry them away. Take them home. Keep them safe. Protect her. Protect both of them…

He stopped at the nurse's station. "Where can I find Mrs Williams?"

He remembered another birth. He'd delivered a child while bullets were flying, and the only thing between new life coming into the world and death was Ziva. There had been no pain relief for the tough marine, no comfortable bed to take the edge off, but he didn't begrudge the women here getting the best of care.

Under normal circumstances he wouldn't have responded to the report of a missing marine this soon however, it wasn't like an expectant father to miss a call like that. But, even if the guy turned out to have ice water in his veins, he didn't. Mrs Williams was going through enough of an ordeal without the added stress of a missing husband. If there was something NCIS could do to help, he'd make sure it was done.

With Ziva following behind, he knocked the door of the delivery room where Mrs Williams was having her baby. Gibbs waited a moment to give the woman a chance to make herself decent. When he walked inside, she looked surprised, then embarrassed. Gibbs saw why. Her missing husband was sitting beside her.

"Lt. Williams I presume?"

The woman's sweat streaked face flushed with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry…Simon's just got here," She stammered.

"You called NCIS!" Williams' glared at his wife, raking a hand through his hair.

Gibbs wasn't happy at the waste of his team's valuable time, but he could excuse Mrs Williams for the call out. What he couldn't and wouldn't excuse was the way this moron was speaking to his pregnant wife. "Lieutenant…a word please."

"Can't it wait? I'm here. Everything is okay – case closed."

For the woman's sake Gibbs kept his tone light but he didn't like the guys attitude. He also wanted answers. "Now, Lieutenant - outside."

With ill grace the guy stormed out his seat and barged past him. Covered in sweat and grime the guy was a mess, and from look of his cut and swollen knuckles, he'd been in a fight. Gibbs homed in on the injury. "Want to tell me what happened, Lieutenant?"

"Marie wasn't due for another three weeks and I just wanted a little fun…yah know…before I'm bogged down with diapers."

"So you decided to keep your cell off…" Ziva's disdain clear by the tone of her voice.

Williams started to get flustered. "No, of course not! I just forgot to charge it – that's all. I panicked when I saw all the missed calls."

Gibbs drew him a look, "Uh huh…so where were you all this time?"

Williams winced, looking uncomfortable. "I got drunk...ended up taking a swing at a guy who said something about marines. My buddy pulled me away and dragged me back to his. I'm not proud of my behaviour, Special Agent?"

"Gibbs…"

"Look, I'm real sorry Marie called you guys out." He attempted a conciliatory smile, but it fell flat and withered under Gibbs stare. "Seriously…I know you have more to do than search for a missing drunk."

He did. The number one priority, finding DiNozzo. "Hey, don't apologize to me…it's the woman in there you should apologize to."

The man nodded but Gibbs decided the scarlet flooding his cheeks was down to anger at being pulled up by NCIS. Not remorse at leaving his wife to go on a bender. He felt sorry for the woman. He hoped the guy bucked up his act to become a decent husband and father.

"Sure…Now if you don't mind I'd like to get back in there. I don't want to miss my son coming into the world."

Williams smile didn't reach his eyes. Gibbs didn't often dislike people on sight, but the young Lieutenant was fast joining the elite few.

"Before you leave, Lieutenant. I need the name of the friend you stayed with."

Ziva's question was innocent enough, but Williams didn't look happy.

"What? I got drunk, I slept at a friend's house – period. It's not like I robbed a bank or anything." Williams rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine…his name is Captain Paul Brownlee. He works in supplies and requisitions."

Gibbs waited for Ziva to scribble the information down before giving her a nod to leave and check her cell. He wanted an update on Tony. Gibbs didn't like being messed about, but given the situation decided to give the tardy Lieutenant a break. "You'd better get back inside, Lieutenant…and congratulations. What you have is precious. Don't blow it."

Ziva was winding up her call to Tim as he approached. From her expression Gibbs knew something was up. "Well?"

"Tony is not at his apartment. McGee could not be sure, but it did not appear he went home last night."

"What about his car?"

"McGee has searched the full area around the apartment block but there is no sign of it. I said I would join him to expand the search. Tony's car is distinctive. If he parked further afield, I am sure we will find it.

"Do it…Put out a BOLO in the meantime."

Gibbs gut was doing flip flops. If Tony had been admitted to hospital as next of kin, he would have been notified. So where the hell was he?

ooooOoooo

Tony didn't know how long he'd been hanging there but his shoulders were screaming under the strain, and his hands were numb. The rope around his wrists tied so tight, even his broken fingers didn't hurt any more.

Given his predicament it was dumb that worried him more than anything else, then again, what would happen if he didn't get the circulation back? Would he lose his fingers, his hands? Gibbs would have no use for a guy who couldn't use a gun. NCIS was his life. Without it…That was a dark place he didn't want to go.

Gibbs. His boss would know he was missing by now. There would be a BOLO out, and no stone would be left unturned. He had faith in him. Faith in his team. There was no doubt in his mind they would find him, question was would he still be alive? Tony swallowed the bile in his throat and tried to push back the negative thought. Of all the ways he'd imagined he could die, being tortured to death hadn't been high on his list. Then again at least the slow, agonizing method would give his team more time to find him – provided he lasted that long.

His broken fingers were no longer throbbing, but the rest of his battered body made up for it in spades. When he'd first surfaced from the drug-induced fog he'd tried to reason with his abductors, make sense of why he'd been taken. Was it a case of mistaken identity? It still wouldn't have been right, but any hopes they'd confused him with someone else were soon dashed when it became clear they believed he was spying on them. Now, after hours of being strung up like a piece of meat and used as a punch bag, he reckoned the bastards were starting to realize he was innocent. Problem was he was now a liability...

The men hadn't been smart enough to cover their faces. Then with a sickening thud in the pit of his stomach he got it. They'd always intended to kill him. They hadn't revealed their names either, but despite wearing civvies the short hair cuts marked them as military – probably Navy. From their questions it was clear they were up to their eyes in something big. What, he hadn't figured out yet.

He'd nicknamed the biggest guy Rocky. Not because of the resemblance, although the guy shared Stallone's dark hair and from his biceps he was no stranger to the gym. No, he'd named him because the bastard loved his body blows. Tony was pretty sure he was re-enacting his favorite scene from the movie. Him, he had the non-speaking part of the slab of beef…

The smaller guy he'd named Bullwinkle. Why? Just because. At any rate he'd left the party early. While Tony was pleased to see him go, Rocky wasn't tiring like he'd hoped.

His head was pounding, his aching brain sluggish. It felt twice its usual size, too heavy for his shoulders, but he kept it raised so he could look them in the eye, show them he wasn't scared – piss them off. He wondered if his stubborn streak did him any favors as Rocky's iron-fist showing no sign of letting up as he tore into his gut, his face, his back.

His vision was blurred. Concussed for sure now, plus he couldn't see a damn thing out his right eye. Did he regret it? He didn't know. He didn't know anything. He couldn't think straight anymore.

Rocky's cell went off. While he went outside to take the call Tony tried to focus, get some clue as to where he was and take the opportunity to wriggle his toes. He'd hoped if he shifted his weight slightly it might ease the painful spasms running through his back. He'd thought wrong. All it did was start up the pain in his hands again as pins and needles, like spikes of electricity, added to his misery. At least there was one comforting thought. His circulation was a-okay and then some.

He already knew he was in a warehouse and from the icy draft blowing in, he guessed it was near the docks. What the hell was it about this place? The bad karma was mind blowing. Gibbs had nearly died here after his car had barrelled into the water. Then there was the time he'd been boxed in with Ziva…

"Sorry for keeping you waiting, Special Agent. Now…where were we?"

Tony figured he'd zoned out when he hadn't heard him returning. Not wanting to spoil the act he quickly forced a smile on his face. In the process the split on his lip widened spilling blood into his mouth and down his chin, but he kept it in place regardless of how much it hurt.

"Back so soon? So...who was it? It was the wife, wasn't it! Was she ragging on you for not coming home last night? C'ause you don't need to stay on my account –"

Sparks exploded as another backhander nearly knocked his head off his shoulders. In a world of pain he was on the verge of passing out when the blood dripping from his nose into his mouth set off a coughing jag. He aimed, sending a spray of blood and spit over his assailant. Rocky didn't look happy.

"You know what, DiNozzo…I'm not sure if you're really good at keeping secrets, or if you're a dumb schmuck who happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time. But…I have a way to find out."

Tony gave him a lopsided grin. "Nah, I'm hopeless at keeping a secret, just ask Abby…"

Suddenly he remembered the soft-hearted Goth, wondering if he would ever see her again. See any of them again. It threw him for a moment but he quickly slid on the DiNozzo charm for one last offensive. "Look, if I'd known anything about whatever the hell you're been beating the crap out of me to find out, don't you think I'd have told you by now?" Hoarse, the weakness in his voice surprised him. He made up for it by locking eyes with his attacker. "What is the deal anyway? Smuggling? Drugs? I sure hope it isn't human trafficking, because that's really scraping the bottom of the barrel – even for a sadist like you."

The vein on his thick neck stood up as the guy went scarlet with anger. "What kind of man do you think I am? I'd never…" Then suddenly he broke into a mirthless chuckle. "Oh, you're smart, Special Agent, you've just narrowed it down. But it doesn't matter. Even if you don't know zip, you're not going to leave here alive."

Tony's mouth went dry as he watched the man remove his belt, double it up, and wind it round his hand leaving the buckle side up. The intent was nauseatingly clear.

"Let me guess. Is that what daddy did to you?"

"No…My father was a good man. My uncle on the other hand didn't want a noisy kid in the house. I learned a lot from him." Rocky's eyes narrowed on the belt as he tightened it in his hand. When he snapped out of the fugue he'd been in he turned to Tony. "Time we got started. Just yell if you want to tell me something, Special Agent DiNozzo. If you admit to spying on us I might even stop and put you out your misery."

Tony's heart started to race but he managed to keep his tone light even if his voice did come out as a whisper. "Come to think of it I do have something to tell you." As the man came in close to listen, Tony spat out all the remaining blood into his face. "Go to hell!"

The man lunged at him pounding on his gut, until he was struggling to breathe through the pain ripping through his body and the blood pouring from his nose. It hurt like hell but somewhere deep inside Tony knew there was much worse to come.

He couldn't control the shivers as the guy went behind him. He'd be damned if he was going to scream, wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction. Tony clenched his jaw and closed his eyes but nothing could prepare him for the first agonizing lash. The slick, raw pain took him by surprize as along with the skin, it tore a low guttural groan from his throat...

ooooOoooo

TBC

Okay...so now the whump begins in earnest!

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